My Dad's a Computer (DHMIS)
by Pen-name-Jess-has-been-taken
Summary: A narrative version of DHMIS. When Harry Shrimpston is put in charge of watching his little brother Dawson and his friend Reginald for the weekend, things go awry when a mysterious stranger claiming to be Dawson's real dad shows up at the door. Soon, the three are whisked off to a terrifying dream realm where it is eternally June nineteenth and the fun and creativity never ends.
1. Chapter 1

It was June nineteenth 2016, the last day of school. Harry Shrimpson exited the school building and immediately took out his phone. It was an unusually hot summer day, so the boy pulled his long red hair back into a ponytail and sat down against the elm tree outside the school doors and opened his Tumblr app.

Most of the posts were uncharacteristically family oriented today, saying things like "Happy Father's Day!" and "Tell your dad you love him today!", including one that said "Fun Fact: Today father's day is on June nineteenth for the first time since 1955!"

"Here's a fun fact: Nobody cares!" Harry snarled, then hit the reblog button and typed it. He wasn't usually this cynical.

Suddenly, a smiling face interrupted his criticism.

"Hi!" It was his little brother Dawson.

"Dawson, what are you doing here?"

"Mom says you have to watch me today." Dawson jumped up and started skipping around in a circle. "Doot doot doot DOOT DOOOOT!" He sang.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Can't you just go over to Mike's house tonight?"

"His name is Reggie! And actually, he's coming here tonight. His mom's volunteering at the red cross."

"When's his dad coming back?"

Dawson stopped skipping. "We don't know. He promised today, but last week he said he couldn't make it. Then the letters just... stopped coming."

Dawson stared at to ground for a few seconds. He also hated father's day, because, while Mike's father had not seen his family in over a year, Dawson had never known his. His father had taken off right before he was born, leaving just their mother and Harry. Luckily, Harry had been twelve at the time, young enough to be there for his brother's early years, but old enough to be able to take care of him.

Harry put his arm around his brother and smiled. "Alright, we can go get Mike-sorry, _Reggie_ -and go home."

"Yay! I'll race you!" Dawson smiled, and took off, fast as his little legs would take him. Harry chuckled and walked alongside him.

"Make sure he takes a bath at 8:45, and is in bed by 9:30. For dinner at 7:45, I left some fish in the freezer. Can you handle cooking fish?"

"Yes, Mrs. Robinson. I can cook fish." Harry said sarcastically. He had watched the two boys several times. What difference did being home alone make as opposed to having his mother there?

"And make sure he remembers his manners."

"I will. Don't worry."

"And-"

"Mrs. Robinson, I'm fine."

Mrs. Robinson sighed. "I just... you guys have been kind of like Mike's second family, and with you going off to college next year, I don't know how your mother will be able to handle them."

Harry hugged Mrs. Robinson. "It's okay. I'll still be here for another three months."

"Thanks. I needed that. Now, I suppose you want to go home. I'll call the boys. MIKE! DAWSON!"

Mike and Dawson skipped into the room. "My name's Reggie."

"Whatever. Do you have all your stuff?"

"Yep!"

"Well, goodbye then." Mrs. Robinson hugged each in turn, then waved as they walked back to Harry's house.

For the next hour, Dawson and Mike played while Harry sat nearby on his computer. He had accumulated quite a backlash for his anti-father's day rants on social media, and needed to address quite a few haters. "Come play with us, Harry!" Dawson said many times, but Harry was absorbed into the digital world.

At dinner that night, Dawson stuffed his face. He had been very hungry all day. Mike, however, didn't even touch his food. "I'm not hungry and this food sucks!"

"Manners, Mike." Harry sighed.

"It's Reggie!"

"Fine. But what about oranges? You like oranges!"

"Oranges are boring."

Needless to say, Mike only ate half a grain of rice.

Later that night, Harry was putting the boys to bed.

"Ew. Dawson, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?"

"Tuesday."

"That's disgusting. Remember what mom says?"

"No." Dawson lied, giggling and pulling the covers over his face.

"Too much sweets make your teeth go grey."

"Please, Harry?" Dawson said, with puppy dog eyes.

"Alright. But brush your teeth extra good in the morning." Harry said, then kissed his brother's head, and went back out to the family room to use his computer.

At quarter to midnight, there was a knocking on the door. At first, Harry tried to ignore it. Probably some neighborhood kids trying to prank him like they always did. But as the knocking grew more urgent, Harry opened the door and was shocked.

Standing in the doorway was a hooded figure with yellowed skin and messy hair. He did not speak; yet words we hear clearly coming from him through raspy breath.

"I… am… looking…" The figure seemed to say.

"Whatever it is, we probably don't have it." Harry replied, trying to close the door.

The figure held it open. "NO! I'm… searching… for my son!"

"Mike's dad's in Syria right now."

"NOT MIKE! Manny…"

"Manny? Do you mean Dawson?"

The figure started to scream. "NO! MAN-NY! MAN-NY!"

All the commotion seemed to wake the young boys, as Mike and Dawson ran to the door. Seeing Dawson just make the figure scream more. "MANNY! MANNY! MY SON!"

Harry got defensive. "He is not your son! His father was Leroy Shrimpson, and even if you were him, he abandoned us! Now, leave!"

Harry was prepared to punch the figure in the face, but just before he made contact, Dawson jumped in front of him and screamed "DON'T HURT MY DAD!"

That's when things turned to darkness.


	2. Why are we in my dad's basement?

Harry, Dawson, and Mike awoke many hours later and looked around. There was nothing to see except for each other, no definite ceiling or floor at all. Just cold darkness.

"Why are we in my dad's basement?" Dawson asked.

Harry gave him an exasperated look and sighed. "This is not your dad's basement."

The three sat there in the darkness and looked around timidly though they could see nothing but each other.

Suddenly a beast with matted brown fur and clothes like an military soldier came into view. It growled at Harry.

"Calm down, Euro." a voice said. Roy stepped into view then too. He continued breathing heavily as he spoke, but the words came out clear and loud. He seemed to just think them, but they were spoken aloud.

"I suppose you're all wondering why you're here. I'd be a pretty awful kidnapped if I explained it that easily."

"Shut up and tell us what's going on!" Harry yelled.

"How adorable. We have a feisty one in this bunch." Roy laughed. Euro growled. "What I will say is that you all seem obnoxiously ignorant. I promised myself that my son would grow up knowing what a good education is, and so far that has not been the case. Has it, Manny?"

Dawson shook his head.

"What I truly think this group is lacking is creativity." Roy spoke, "That's what your first lesson is. I will not grant you the information of when the lesson will be, but it will definitely take place on June nineteenth."

"But sir," Mike said, "Why do we have to take lessons? Learning is boring!"

"Not the way I teach. Besides, if you're all on your best behavior, maybe at some point we could have a party!"

Mike and Harry still looked worried, but Dawson was overjoyed at the possibility of a party.

"6 lessons. That's all that really matters in life. See you later, son."

"Bye dad!" Dawson smiled and waved as Roy stepped back into the shadows, Euro following close behind.

Three doors appeared. Since nothing else was around, they each went in their own door. Inside was a small cot and nothing else. Mike fell asleep quickly, Harry stayed awake trying to break free, and Dawson called for his dad, who sang him a chilling lullaby before he left.

And that was how it would be, until the day of the first lesson.

 **A/N This chapter was based off the "HELP" video on the DHMIS channel. Idk when the next chapter will be, but I'll try to get two out during the month of April.**


	3. CREATIVE

It was the fourth June nineteenth since being kidnapped, and things were finally beginning to fall into a routine; Wake up, eat a breakfast of something that looked and tasted nothing like normal food, and spend the rest of the day trying to figure out what the hell was going on. (Except for Dawson. He usually spent the days with his "dad", Roy.) Dawson was spending so much time with Roy these days that he only ever answered to Manny, a habit which drove his brother mad.

But this day was different. On the fourth June nineteenth, an alarm sounded during the middle of the night, waking the three boys up. They rushed out the doors to their rooms and found Euro and Roy standing a few feet away, looking as though a spotlight was being shined on them.

"Oh good, you're awake." Roy said, smiling slightly. "It is time, of course, for your first lesson. I have convinced my friend Paige to teach you all how exactly to be creative, but before we begin, I will go over some rules."

"Uh, sir?" Mike asked, "I already know how to be creative."

"Oh you poor thing!" Roy walked over and stood in front of Mike. "You trust your silly 'schools' to tell you what creativity is.

"Moving on, the lessons will be told entirely through song. You WILL sing, or at least talk in rhythm. You WILL NOT disobey the teacher. That is all."

"That's it?" Dawson asked.

"For now." Roy replied, as the world began to get dark again and a colorful kitchen spun into view.

"Where am I?" Harry asked. He looked around and saw numerous objects made of felt and other craft materials. He tried to reach out to them, but was distracted when he saw his hand. It was red! In fact, all of him was red. He brought his hands up to his red face to find it covered in hair, but somehow he could still see because his eyes were on top. "What am I?"

Dawson was also a puppet, only he was yellow and still looked somewhat human. Mike was a green bird.

The three sat in petrified silence, fearing what was to come, until they noticed a sketchbook on the table. The cover opened to reveal a smiling face, who began to sing.

"What's your favorite idea?" it asked, then, without pausing, answered, "Mine is being creative!"

"How do you get the idea?" Dawson asked.

"I just try to think creatively!" The sketchbook stood upright and pointed at a basket of fruit on the table. "Now when you look at this orange, tell me please, what do you see?"

"It's just a boring old orange!" Mike spat.

"Maybe to you, but not to me!" Suddenly, an animated vision was produced as the sketchbook continued to sing. "I see a silly face, walking along and smiling at me!"

"I don't see what you mean!" Mike continued.

"Cause you're not thinking creatively!" The sketchbook pointed to some colorful string pasted onto her page. "Now take a look at my hair! I use my hair to express myself."

"That sounds really boring" Harry said, rolling his eyes.

The sketchbook repeated itself. "I use my hair to express myself."

Somehow, they teleported to a window. It was cloudy outside. Sketchbook pointed at the clouds and sang "Now, when you look at the clouds in the sky, don't you find it exciting?"

"No." The other puppets said.

"Come on, take another look!" Sketchbook seemed to configure the clouds into recognizable shapes, which the puppets called out.

"I can see a hat! I can see a cat! I can see a man with a baseball bat! I can see a dog! I can see a frog! I can see a ladder, leaning on a log!"

Suddenly, they were back in the kitchen. The sketchbook still sang.

"I think you're getting the hang of it now, using your mind to have a good time."

Dawson scribbled something on a canvas, put it on an easel and sang "I might paint a picture of a clown!", to which the sketchbook replied. "Woah there friend, you might need to slow down!' and dumped black oil all over the painting.

Harry was confused. _Isn't this what you wanted?_ He thought.

The sketchbook did not answer his concerns. Instead it sang, "Here's another good tip on how to be a creative wiz kids: Go and collect some leaves and sticks and arrange them into your favorite color!"

This direction was confusing, but the puppets still observed their hands, arranging leaves and sticks into words for each of their favorite colors, Harry's being blue, Mike's being red, and Dawson's being green.

The sketchbook did not like this, and it sang "Green is not a creative color!" Without pausing, it sang "There's one more thing that you need to know, before you let your creativity flow: Listen to your heart! Listen to the rain! Listen to the voices in your brain! Come on guys, let's get creative!"

Without any conscious thought, the three began working on craft projects. Dawson was pasting together a strange pair of glasses. Harry spread some glitter on the table. _This will be a bitch to clean up_ , he thought. Mike placed a black letter D on the table in front of him. Suddenly, the music turned strange as the room spun, making everything look CGI. It was over quickly, but now Dawson and Mike were larger than Harry. A real heart was placed in front of Harry. It wasn't felt like everything else in the room, it was real. Though he willed himself not to, he felt his hand sprinkle more glitter on the table, and roll the heart in it.

Meanwhile, Dawson was gluing more and more of the craft supplies together aimlessly. When that finished, he got up from his chair and started dancing, but it wasn't him dancing. The strings were being pulled on the puppet. The sky darkened and began to rain, but still, they were being "creative". The music turned horrific as they all lost control of their puppet bodies and were jerked around in a horrifying dance. A cake was made, but when Mike cut into it, more organs spilled out. The word he was spelling turned out to be "DEATH". All was chaos.

The chaos ended as quickly as it began. Suddenly the music was happy, and everyone was back to their normal sizes. They all stared at the sketchpad, who continued to sing. "Now let's all agree to never be creative again."

The sketchpad closed, and the world came spinning back into view.

"Now have you all learned your lesson?" Roy said, without actually talking.

"No!" Harry and Mike yelled, but Dawson did not agree.

"Very well then. Now, off to bed with you three. Expect a new lesson tomorrow.

.

.

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 **A/N Sorry for not updating for 3 months, but I had almost no inspiration and was working on a few other projects on Wattpad. Also, did you guys see episode 6? That was awesome, and I can't wait to write my interpretation of it.**


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